Volume 108 — OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
Reading edition
The Convict Ship, Clark Russel's latest novel (Chatto and Windus), is redolent of the sea. There is no writer, not forgetting Marryat, who has such close companionship with the sea in its multiple forms and its many moods. The temptation to transfer some of the ever-varying pictures of the sea which sparkle in these pages is great but must be resisted. Here is a glimpse of night at sea, chosen not because it is best, but because it is shortest:—
"The mighty shadow of the ocean night was majestic and awful, with the wild, flashful colouring of lightning in the south, and the dustlike multitude of stars over the three glooming spires of our ship."
One would suppose that, sitting down to write, Clark Russell had just come home from a long trip foreign, or at least lived his life somewhere within sight and sound of the sea. The pity of it is, my Baronite tells me, that this incomparable student of the sea, of ships that go down upon the waters, and of those who people them, lies at anchor on his sofa in an inland town. He has not looked upon the sea for a dozen years, nor smelt its brine, nor watched a ship coming or going. This makes the more marvellous the power of description of sea life in all its forms here displayed. Beyond this special gift, fascinating to some people, Mr. Russell has a story to tell, a good stout sea story, full of life and adventure, through the devious movements of which we meet real men and one woman. Remembering that Clark Russell now ranks as a veteran novelist, it is pleasant to bear testimony to the fact that he seems to have saved his best wine to the last. The Convict Ship is, take it from stem to stern, the best work he has yet turned out.
The B. De B.-W.
"N.B."—Glasgow will have to look after its parks. Here is the Town Council actually dreaming of "feuing" some of "the recently-acquired Camphill grounds" for building purposes! These grounds belong to the people, and adjoin the South Side Park, and "the amenity of that park would be destroyed" by building operations. One protester says South Side Park is the prettiest in Glasgow, and "more like the London parks, which I regard as the finest in the kingdom." Thanks, worthy Scot! The view of it, "as seen through the railings in the Pollokshaws Road," reminds him of "the fine view of Hyde Park which is to be had through the railing in that busy and lovely thoroughfare—Oxford Street." Thanks again, thrice worthy Pict! But Oxford Street a "lovely thoroughfare"—well! At any rate, the Glasgow Bailies when next they are disposed to "feu," should think of the "Many" instead.
RHYME FOR RECORD-MAKERS.
Rattle-it, rattle-it, "Biking" man; Make us a "record" as fast as you can; Score it, and print it as large as life, And someone will "cut" it ere you can say knife!
Germany and France at the Theatres.—Capital fun at Druriolanus's Drury Lane, by the Ducal Court Company. Farcical Comedy, Hasemann's Töchter, played by the Ducal Creatures. How we have been going it in the theatrical world! Sara in French! Duse in Italian! and now the clever people of Saxe-Coburg-and-Gotha ("You'll Go-tha and see 'em!") to finish with. By the way, Sara not to be beaten by anybody as La Tosca. Fascinating and terrible as ever. In the knife, corpse, and candle scene, awful. Fine play, but—"Horrible! Most horrible!" Quite comforting, when curtain descends on that Act, to remember that "it's only purtendin'."
A singular entry was on Tuesday, June 18, made in Mr. Inglefield's visitors' (House of Commons) book. "Mr. Disraeli—Mr. Gladstone." It was Mr. C. Disraeli introducing as a visitor a Mr. Gladstone of Liverpool. A very "singular entry" indeed, had it been the ghost of Big Ben himself!
Dr. W. Grace's Favourite Dish.—"Batter pudding."
"A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE," &c.
Sissy. "Mamma, does Demi-toilette mean Half-dressed, like Mrs. Robins is when she comes here to Dinner?"
MERRY MAY OUR KIEL GROW!
(By a Wee German Laddie).
Air—"The Keel Row!"
As I sailed through the Baltic, The Baltic, the Baltic, As I sailed through the Baltic, I heard a German sing, O! "Merry may our Kiel grow, Our Kiel grow, our Kiel grow, With ships from sea to sea, O! "The Vaterland reposes, As though on beds of roses, Whilst we hold up our noses, Among the Naval Powers, O! Merry may our Kiel grow, &c. "The Frank desires to mizzle, His Panama's a fizzle. Bull, in his land of drizzle, Is jealous as cm be, O! But merry may our Kiel grow, &c."
Mr. F. J. Horniman, F.R.G.S., tea-merchant, has accepted the invitation to oppose Mr. Cavendish Bentinck, Conservative M.P., for the united borough of Penryn, Flushing, and Falmouth. It is anticipated, says the Western Daily Mercury, that he will make a good candidate. Certainly he ought to be able to suit the constituency to a T, unless it continues faithful to its Cavendish, in which case his candidature will end in smoke. Mr. Horniman, no doubt, hopes for an early general election, because the longer he stands the greater prospect of his getting what schoolboys call a "tannin'."
New Song.—"Goodness' Nose," By the author of "Beauty's Eyes"!!